


ocean eyes

by wintercaps



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (only a tiny bit tho for like a sentence), Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 05:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercaps/pseuds/wintercaps
Summary: A quick footed, light handed kid like Bucky Barnes was more than capable of sneaking his way into places he shouldn’t be and taking things he shouldn’t take. Steve was well aware of this fact; Bucky had long since made his way into Steve’s heart and taken a piece all for himself.





	ocean eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I threw in the Underage tag because they’re sixteen-ish the first time they fool around (steve mentions that he’s a month away from his sixteenth birthday). If this bothers you in any way, please feel free to click away from this fic, or imagine him as older if necessary — neither of their ages are important to the story.

_you_ _have_ _me_

 _until_ _every_ _star_ _in_ _the_ _galaxy_ _dies_

 _you_ _have_ _me_

* * *

There are some thing that Steve, just a month shy of sixteen, knows for certain. First, he knows that the sky is blue. His colorblindness makes it a tad difficult at times, but from what he can tell, he knows what blue looks like. The sky is blue, and the lady in the apartment next door’s favorite dress is blue, and Bucky’s eyes are almost definitely blue. Bucky’s eyes, regardless of color, are the prettiest things Steve’s ever seen. They’re soft and warm and he has the longest eyelashes Steve’s ever seen and, best of all, those eyes look at him as though he matters.

Second, Steve knows that the thoughts he has about Bucky aren’t exactly — _pure_ or _ideal._ He’d been thirteen when he first realised that he saw Bucky in the way he was meant to see dames, and had spent several long months hating himself for that very fact. But then Bucky would smile at him, all sweet and charming with a dash of devious, and Steve found that he cared less and less. There were worse things going on in the world than a young boy who loved his best friend, and besides, what kind of a god would bring James Barnes into Steve’s life if he wasn’t expected to fall in love with him?

The thoughts that Steve has about Bucky — well. Steve thinks a lot of things about Buck, in the kinda way that makes him want to take him for a spin at the local dancehall and hold hands down the street and kiss him till they’re both dizzy with it even as Steve’s lungs ache. But Steve also thinks a lot of things about Bucky in the way that reminds him of things he’d seen in a bluesie that Bucky had showed him once when they were kids, with a sly smile and a hushed “don’t tell no one, Stevie”. Steve hadn’t asked and Bucky hadn’t told him where he’d gotten the comic, but it wasn’t hard to guess. A quick footed, light handed kid like Bucky Barnes was more than capable of sneaking his way into places he shouldn’t be and taking things he shouldn’t take. Steve was well aware of this fact; Bucky had long since made his way into Steve’s heart and taken a piece all for himself.

The third thing that Steve knows for certain, without a shadow of a doubt, is that Bucky loves him too. He says so, lips pressed to the skin of Steve’s bony shoulder, a repeated whisper of, “ _I love you I love you I love you_ ”. Steve sighs it back, hands in Bucky’s hair, dragging him in for a kiss. He’s bare chested on his bed, shivering under Bucky’s wandering hands. It’s early June and the days are heating up and they’d grown up shirtless around each other, stripping down during the warmer months to stay cool. Steve had pulled his undershirt over his head, turning to Bucky to ask if he wanted the floor or the bed, and had found himself pinned under Bucky’s weight, mouth insistent at his neck.

Steve had shivered and whispered, “Buck, oh, that’s —“ and jerked at the brush of a hand against his chest.

Bucky had muttered, “Steve.” and then, again, “ _Steve.”_ as he nuzzled into the space behind Steve’s ear. And then he’d whispered _I love you_ as he stroked his fingers down Steve’s trembling sides, and Steve had arched, insisting, “ _Bucky._ ”

Bucky pulls away just long enough to strip out of his own shirt and Steve shivers when he loosens his belt. They’re both clearly hard in their slacks, and Steve’s mouth waters. He’s spent a _long_ time thinking of the things he wants to do to Bucky, and he wants nothing more than to hold him down and take that cock into his mouth. He needs it the way his lungs need air during an asthma attack and Steve’s pretty sure he’ll _die_ if he doesn’t get to taste Bucky’s dick.

Steve ends up between Bucky’s legs, gagging and tearful, but when Bucky pulls him off with a hand in his hair, he whines and presses closer. Bucky whispers an awed sounding _Stevie_ as Steve suckles at the head of his cock before sinking down again, till his throat spasms around the stretch.

Bucky grips at Steve’s hair when he spills into his mouth, head shaking dazedly as Steve swallows and licks up the mess he hadn’t been able to catch. His own hips rock absently into the mattress as he presses a kiss to the inside of Bucky’s thigh.

Bucky drags Steve up the length of the bed till they’re pressed together, and Steve has to muffle his shout in Bucky’s shoulder at the feel of a hand around his length. He whines and moans and shakes and falls apart in Bucky’s arms, spilling over his hand. He doesn’t hesitate to lap up his own cum when Bucky holds his dirtied hand up with a devious smile and a raised eyebrow.

Afterwards, Bucky holds him close, whispering his name over and over again, as though he can’t believe that he has this; that he’s _allowed_ to have this. A part of Steve can’t believe it either, although, well. Bucky and Steve were _Bucky and Steve_ long before either of them really knew what it meant to love someone so much that every atom of your existence ached to be around them.

Being in love with Bucky is easier than breathing and as natural as the feeling of warmth spreading through every cell of his body when Bucky smiles or laughs or says his name or _anything_ at all.

Seven decades later and Steve has been shot and hacked at and jabbed at with needles and electrocuted and thrown out windows and off buildings and hit by cars that resemble tanks and he has literally drowned, and he knows without a doubt that he would go through every moment of that pain a thousand times over so long as he could spend the rest of his life by Bucky’s side. He knows that he would rather suffocate a million times than live in a world without Bucky. He’d done it once before, and every day since then had felt a thousand times worse than the suffocating terror of drowning as the plane crashed and submerged into water colder than any winter Steve had ever experienced.

Steve’s twenty-nine and ninety-nine when Bucky, long-haired and still getting used to the new arm that the Wakandan princess had made him, pulls him close and kisses him for the first time in seventy years. He whispers _I love you_ into Steve’s shoulder and holds him tight with his right arm, left delicately draped over his waist. Steve doesn’t cry but, well, if his eyes get a little misty then that’s for him to know and no one else to find out (except for Bucky, who kisses away the tears and whispers his name like he’s the same scrawny kid he used to be and a part of Steve thinks that he is; he always will be, just like Bucky will always be the punk who followed him around to pull him out of fight and kiss him breathless. Except, now, Steve can hold his breath for almost five minutes, so Bucky’s going to have to try harder than he did when they were kids if he wants to do so).

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments make my day! come talk to me at starduststeverogers on tumblr if you’d like!


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